


Planes, Custard Tarts and Frog Cakes

by chidoriXblossom, Gumnut



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Brothers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chidoriXblossom/pseuds/chidoriXblossom, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: Sometimes the coercion has to be subtle. Scott can, on occasion, be exactly that.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 49





	Planes, Custard Tarts and Frog Cakes

**Author's Note:**

> Gumnut and ChidoriXblossom accidently role played a fic. This is the result.

“Damn it, Virg, sit down!”

“I’m fine, Scott. There’s work to be done.”

“It can wait.”

“It doesn’t need to. I can manage.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “But you don’t have to. Give your body a chance to heal, for goodness sake. What is the hurry?”

A scowl. “There isn’t one. But I’m bored and I’ve got the time. Might as well use it and take some of the pressure off Brains.”

Scott threw up his hands. “Do I have to make it an order?”

The faintest twitch of a smirk touched Virgil’s lips. “You can try, but seeing as I’m off duty, technically I don’t have to follow it.”

Scott’s lips thinned. “So, if I was the one running around in a sling, I could do whatever I wanted just because I was bored?”

Virgil let out a short sigh and turned back to his toolbox. “Considering all the stupid stunts you pull, you can’t judge.” He frowned. “And I’m not ‘running around’. I’d just rather be doing something useful than sitting wasting the day away.”

Scott looked away a second only to return his focus to Virgil a moment later. “Okay, sure, but something less physical?” He grabbed for an example. “What about your painting? This is an opportunity to spend some decent time in the studio. Something a little less strenuous than working in the hangars.”

It was Virgil’s turn to roll his eyes. He appreciated what his brother was trying to do, he really did. He just didn’t have the patience for it right now. Pain always made him cranky and Scott was starting to push his buttons.

“It doesn’t work like that. I have to be in the right frame of mind to paint.” The tension from their argument was starting to make his shoulder ache. Virgil downed his tool and had a tentative rub at the suffering joint. “Look, can we not fight about this? I’m really not in the mood.”

Scott fell quiet a moment, but his eyes did not leave his brother. “What are you planning to do?”

Virgil turned to face him and leaned back against his box. “Painkillers are wearing off. I’ll take a break if you relax and stop worrying.” It was a compromise. Scott could take it or leave it.

Blue flickered. “Join me in the lounge?”

Virgil relented. “Fine. Just for a little while though.”

Scott didn’t grin, but he did reach out and squeeze Virgil’s undamaged shoulder gently. “C’mon, I’ll even let you have the remote.” With a bit of luck a fresh dose of painkillers would have Virgil snoozing against his shoulder on the couch.

That got a slight smile out of the younger brother. “Wow, I feel spoiled. Gordon never got that.”

The tension eased from his shoulders but the pain remained, and Virgil walked in step with his big brother over to the elevator and back up to the villa.

When they reached the comms room, Scott grabbed the remote, almost chucked it to his brother, before realising exactly what he was doing, and handed it over instead. “Got your pills?”

“They’re with the first aid kit in the kitchen cabinet. I need to take them with food.” A thought suddenly crossed his mind. “I think there are some goodies left over that Kayo brought from that bakery in Adelaide.”

Scott stared a moment. “The Balfours? You mean they survived Gordon and Alan? How did you manage that?” He waved his brother towards the couch. “You sit. I’ll grab. Find us something to watch.”

With a chuckle Virgil did as he was told. He stole a few extra cushions from the other sofas and got himself settled comfortably. His shoulder was still protesting at the movement, but other than a faint hiss through his teeth he stayed quiet. No sense in worrying Scott more than he was already.

Scott trotted downstairs to the kitchen and got his hands on the necessary pills before throwing open the refrigerator and basically pulling everything out of it, including what had to be the remains of two-week-old Chinese takeaway. Ugh, Gordon was disgusting. It hit the recycling bin with a thud. But yes, right at the very back in a bag labelled coolant tubes in Virgil’s calligraphic handwriting, he found two custard tarts and two cakes in the shape of frogs. Placing them carefully on the counter, he threw everything back into the fridge and grabbing his bounty, bounded back up the stairs.

Virgil had found something to watch by that point, a show featuring vintage aircraft with the presenter getting a tour of a hangar full of them over in the States. Scott liked anything to do with planes and it was interesting from an engineering standpoint for Virgil, so it was a win win. He wasn’t in the mood for a movie, wanting to get back to work after this little break. Better to avoid getting tied into a three-hour blockbuster.

When Scott joined him on the sofa Virgil grinned at the paper bakery bag. So, his little trick had worked, huh? Excellent. “I call dibs on the green one.”

Scott raised an eyebrow at his brother. “You’re welcome to it.” He held out the painkillers as he sat down beside his brother. “Take your drugs.” He stared at the holoprojector. “Is that a P51 Mustang?”

Virgil accepted the pills and popped a few into his mouth, swallowing them down quickly before he reached for his green cake. “P-51D, yeah. This guy has just finished restoring it apparently. I think they’re going to show the test flight later.” He bit into his cake and resisted the urge to groan. Damn, they always tasted so good. Perfect way to mask the slightly icky aftertaste of those awful painkillers.

Scott absentmindedly grabbed a custard tart. “You think we’ve got room for one of those in the hangars?”

Virgil eyed him curiously. “I’m sure I could make space near Two. Why? You wanting to try your hand at restoration?”

“No, just want to fly one.”

Virgil shook his head fondly. “Thought so. I’ll see what I can do about making enough space.” He finished his cake and then slouched back a little on the sofa. Spending time like this with Scott when he wasn’t stressing and giving himself grey hairs was one of Virgil’s favourite pastimes. It was rare these days for the two of them to get enough downtime to just chill and hang out. The world had such high demands for them.

Scott slouched a little himself as the documentary wandered through the history of the plane and its contribution to WWII. He liked its lines. It had a vague echo of his ‘bird in its silhouette. “Would you be interested in restoring one?”

Virgil shrugged with his one good shoulder, head resting against the back of the sofa. “Wouldn’t say no. It’s a piece of history that deserves to be remembered.” He turned a little towards his brother. “But it would mean I’m down in the hangar even more, and you just dragged me out of there.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Not right now. Sometime in the future.” He shifted where he sat. “I just thought it might be something we could do together. You know, for fun.” Now why did he suddenly feel awkward?

Virgil smiled and nudged him gently. “I’m winding you up. It does sound like fun.” He turned back to the holoprojector and relaxed. Stifled a yawn. Was he really that tired or was it just the painkillers starting to kick in? Virgil didn’t want to sleep.

“You gonna eat your tart? Now it is out of the bag, it is fair game for the others. John’s down tomorrow and you know what he’s like with free reign of the refrigerator.” Full belly, painkillers, his brother didn’t stand a chance.

A heavy hand rubbed at Virgil’s face, mussing the front of his hair a little. “Nah, I’m good. He’s welcome to it.” He’d actually had a decent breakfast this morning and the frog cake had been a special treat. The tart would just be greed. “I want to get back to work shortly. If I eat too much, I’ll feel sick.”

He shifted a little, more towards Scott, taking a bit more pressure off his bad shoulder. The gravitational pull of the sofa and his brother’s shoulder was getting stronger without Virgil even realising.

Of course, that was the very moment the documentary came to an end, but Virgil had obviously started the projector up on his own account, because the autoplay switched over to something musical. A piano began to play. Scott went from mental cursing to a hesitant hope within seconds. His eyes darted surreptitiously in his brother’s direction in the hope he would stay put.

If it was a battle of wills between staying awake and falling asleep, it was obvious which side was winning. Virgil’s eyes were drooping to half-mast now, the remote in his good hand nearest Scott slowly slipping from his grasp. The meds were heavy duty, quick to take down the normally strong and stubborn Tracy before he could put up much of a fight. The music floating through the air helped too, as did the warmth emanating from Scott when Virgil’s head finally came down completely onto his shoulder. Just as predicted. A minute later and he was out, body grasping the chance to rest and heal with the quieting of an overactive mind. A faint mumble, wordless and without meaning, then nothing but deep steady breaths.

Scott couldn’t help but smile. Gentle fingers caught the remote before it could hit the floor, the volume dropped just a little before he placed it on the side table. A glance at his sleeping brother, another smile as Scott shifted just enough to get comfortable for a long haul. He grabbed his tablet, sent John a quick text with details to warn all other family members off the comms room unless there was an emergency and opened up the paperwork he had been avoiding for the last week. As Virgil began to snore, Scott just smiled more.

-o-o-o-

FIN.


End file.
